A lonely chimney
Stands starkly against the sky
As white clouds race by
A proud wind turbine
Purrs gently on a green hill
Points to future still
Her sad, pleading eyes
Show a thousand years of pain
The sky cries with rain
A warm, gentle smile
Challenges the cold, dark fear
Dries the stillborn tear
A little flicker
Of redemptive light still blurred
In a deep, dark world
But the days of hope
Are now just a memory
Of when we were free
II
Across purple hill
Rain pulls a sad, grey curtain
Hiding all the pain
False prophets rose high
With many promises then
Now lying broken
We have lost our way
The large signposts were all wrong
We heard the wrong song
The trees may whisper
But the great waterfall roars
While the cold rain pours
Can lost humanity
Still find its true way again
In the sun or rain?
And we all flow on
To our inevitable end
Round every last bend
III
The mist slowly lifts
Reveals outlines true and cold
Balm for a tired soul
In the cold distance
The faintly drawn horizon
Calls me ever on
The light to the west
Beyond the elusive mist
Holds sacred promise
When the golden sun
Returns, takes its rightful place
Land shows its own face
Birds will sing once more
Come the great, true renaissance
As we smiling, dance
Truth will return
When we look for it right here
And love conquers fear
Peter Sagar
